


i want you all in

by sinjoong (undeliveredtruth)



Series: decadence [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Butt Plugs, Get what he needs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Revenge, Rough Sex, Seonghwa helps Hongjoong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeliveredtruth/pseuds/sinjoong
Summary: the more seonghwa waits for hongjoong to forgive him for what he’s done to yunho, the more he knows it will never come. no matter how much he wants to, it will never come just from seonghwa giving himself up for hongjoong, being his toy, begging for hongjoong to give him what he needs.so he takes matters in his own hands, and helps hongjoong get his closure.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: decadence [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785736
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59





	i want you all in

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! this is the last part, and i'm quite happy with how it's turned out i believe, i hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> i bet there are people who did not want to read part two, so i will summarise the backstory here; please read it so the story makes sense! basically, yunho and hongjoong had been mafia partners, and maybe something more, but never got to actually being something because they waited until they could leave the mafia to do so. despite not knowing about it, seonghwa’s actions caused yunho’s death—seonghwa’s father took advantage of a plan that yunho’s mafia family had (to take a jab at him by having yunho sleep with seonghwa) to find an excuse to kill him, and further raise the tension between hongjoong and yunho’s mafia family, and seonghwa’s family plus their allies, the choi family. 
> 
> so here we are! i hope you enjoy this, and thank you for reading! <3

this time, there’s something different.

there’s something already burning in seonghwa and hongjoong hasn’t even walked into the room of the cheap, shady love motel he instructed seonghwa to come to. something unsettling, weird, strange; an amalgam of emotions seonghwa doesn’t know where to start to untangle.

he promised himself, back when promises still mattered, that he’d never take hongjoong as a quick fix to whatever was messed up in his life. that he’d do this for him; let hongjoong do whatever he wanted to him. and he’d never ask—he’d stay still and take it, take whatever came.

but that was _before._ now, seonghwa feels stretched taut, a bow on the edge of snapping; there’s a burning arrow held in it, the fingers splayed across the nock point drawing him back further and further.

one day, it’s going to let go, and seonghwa will bury that arrow in someone’s heart.

but until then, he’s self-aware enough to recognize that meeting hongjoong has become something of a lifeline. and seonghwa, selfish enough to admit that sometimes, the only thing that can set him straight are a few slaps and bruises on his body, courtesy of hongjoong.

hongjoong will never find excuses for him. hongjoong will give him just what he deserves.

which is why when the door opens, and hongjoong appears in it, seonghwa’s heart settles. peaceful, calm, awaiting his fate.

he welcomes hongjoong from the bed, on his knees, ass pressed to his heels. the plug shifts in him, pressing into his spot.

but there’s something different about hongjoong too. usually, he wouldn’t come to him like this, heated and intense. he wouldn't kiss him from the start. he wouldn’t kiss him _at all_ sometimes, would take the time to _see_ the things he’s doing to him instead.

but now, hongjoong takes four large steps towards the bed and grabs seonghwa’s chin in a tight grip. without even a word, he takes one look down and steals the breath out of seonghwa with a heavy kiss.

“hongjoong…” seonghwa chances, but hongjoong quiets him with a finger to his mouth, taking his jacket off and throwing it to the ground.

“please don’t say anything.”

seonghwa doesn’t. bites his lip as hongjoong unbuttons his shirt, pulling it over his head; when he does the same to seonghwa, he puts his arms up and lets hongjoong slip the white cashmere over his head, tug at his choker.

his pants go next, in a rush of hands; seonghwa’s turned around, on his hands and knees, and the tight jeans get peeled off from his legs. through the black lingerie, hongjoong must be able to see the base of the plug in seonghwa.

“fuck,” hongjoong attaches a hand to seonghwa’s ass. the first hard smack makes him arch his back.

the second and the third seonghwa twitches at, his cock pressing against the elastic of the panties. the slaps jolt the plug deeper inside of him; seonghwa might _cry_ if hongjoong doesn’t _do_ something.

thankfully, hongjoong seems to be more unsettled, eager, than he is. which takes seonghwa entirely by surprise. hongjoong usually likes to take his time messing him up, in whichever way he might want to that day. teach seonghwa his place, use his mouth, slap him around, manhandle him. _hurt him._

this time though… this time, hongjoong barely gives seonghwa two seconds to breathe before his panties are pushed to the side, and the plug gets swiftly pulled out, seonghwa clenching around nothing.

lubed up fingers tease at the entrance; hongjoong slides two and then quickly three inside him, deep from the get-go. his arms give; his chest presses to the pink sheets, hongjoong mercilessly fingering him.

hongjoong doesn’t say anything. doesn’t mutter a word even when he pushes into him, driving seonghwa up the bed, and he _breathes._ lets out a sigh like this is what he’s been thinking about the whole day, like he’s comfortable _,_ like he’s come _home_ to him.

seonghwa can take a lot of things; he can take his body being used in a thousand and one ways, he can take being wrecked, humiliated, ruined. he _craves_ it, even, the feeling of falling apart at the hands of another.

but _this…_ hongjoong’s deep, slow thrusts, the press of his forehead between seonghwa’s shoulder blades, the warm breath on the knobs of his spine, the hand holding on to his hips like it doesn’t want to let go, the other one tugging at his cock slowly, thoroughly…

seonghwa comes without any warning, trembling under hongjoong. it even takes _him_ by surprise; he gasps a hoarse cry as hongjoong presses into him, still tugging at him, still…

still doing whatever he’s doing, taking seonghwa apart. he trembles out of hongjoong’s hold, falling into his back and on the bed; hongjoong holds his hand and presses right back into him when seonghwa tugs him back into him, frantic, eager.

he _needs_ him. he doesn’t care that it hurts, that the ache of overstimulation licks flames over his body with every press of hongjoong’s cock inside him. he wants hongjoong _so bad…_

“shh, baby boy,” hongjoong soothes him, his thighs wrapping around hongjoong’s hips and head arching back into the pillow.

it could be _minutes, hours, days_ that hongjoong just keeps going, increasingly powerful, rough thrusts inside seonghwa; he’s on the edge so ridiculously fast it’s nothing but embarrassing, desperately tugging on hongjoong’s hand.

but thankfully, so is hongjoong.

for once.

for once, hongjoong kisses him through his orgasm, coming deep inside him; the intense feeling drives seonghwa over the edge one more time, harsh and sudden.

rips everything out of him; seonghwa’s mouth opens in a silent scream, hongjoong’s deep thrusts overpowering him. everything in him, and he shudders with the force of the fall.

a little death. unthinkingly, he takes the leap, and _falls._

shivers when hongjoong pulls out; this time, seonghwa feels the emptiness beyond physical.

_whiplash._

hongjoong pulls away, gets tissues to clean them up. seonghwa’s eyes trail after him like in a haze.

what happened? what just happened?

“hong… hongjoong,” he tries, but his voice breaks. hongjoong doesn’t hear him.

he shakes his head; the last fifteen minutes are a jumble, something he can’t even begin to unknot.

hongjoong comes back; he kisses seonghwa’s open mouth, sneaking a tongue between his lips.

and then he _stays._

he puts his clothes on, and helps seonghwa clean up and put his on as well. tight black pants, white cashmere sweater, choker still intact. there are no marks on his body, nothing else but the empty feeling, the come dripping still into his lingerie, a phantom feeling.

he feels strange. weird, not knowing what to say to this hongjoong; but he recognizes that this... this is hongjoong letting go. so he needs to do something.

“hongjoong...”

he stays silent, picking up his discarded coat from the floor, throwing it on the armchair.

“aren’t you leaving?”

“it’s too early. need to wait a little bit more, if someone’s outside.”

that’s true. usually, hongjoong would fuck seonghwa for hours, mess him around until he got tired of him.

not this. not this desperate, heated, intense... _lovemaking._

“oh. what happened? do you wanna... talk about it?”

“no.”

“why?” seonghwa’s tone raises just the slightest at hongjoong’s dismissive tone in front of him. he’s not even looking at seonghwa.

“i don’t.”

“so it’s fine to you?” seonghwa feels the anger _burn._ rising too quickly for it to be healthy, licking flames at his skin. “you come here and you fuck me like you mean it for the first time. for the first time, you do something different, and you don’t want to talk about anything? i want to talk about it. i want to know what changed.”

there’s a feeling he can’t describe; like his veins are tight, and his whole body is strung up even more than it was before. and he’s tired.

he’s tired of all of this.

“why not? why can’t you accept i mean something to you? why can’t you let me help you? is it because you hate me?” seonghwa gets up to where hongjoong is sitting on the edge of the bed. “or is it because i’m not _him?”_

 _“stop it,”_ hongjoong’s voice drops. the threatening aura in it, the likes seonghwa’s never heard before, makes him pause. but just for a second. his tone mellows; he’s hit a spot.

“hongjoong… you know it’s not good. to keep it in.”

hongjoong’s head drops between his palms. hesitant, seonghwa puts a hand on his shoulder.

he gets it, when hongjoong shrugs it off. seonghwa must be the last person hongjoong would want to talk to about this with.

but hongjoong needs it.

“i don’t want to talk about it, seonghwa,” hongjoong grits between his teeth, pulling away from the bed to find his pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his coat. “what’s so hard to understand?”

“but… i _hate_ seeing you like this. it breaks my heart every time…” he stops. _knowing i can do_ nothing _about it,_ he wants to say, standing up to his full height. _i want to mean to you as much as he did._

hongjoong snorts an unamused laugh, lighting up the cigarette in his mouth.

“huh. in the end, it’s all about _you,_ right.”

_oh._

“ _you_ hate seeing me like this, _you_ want to fix me, _you_ want to make it better. the only thing _you_ want is to feel better about yourself, seonghwa. cut the crap.”

hongjoong’s words punch seonghwa like a train barreling at full speed. harder than any of his slaps, than anything he’s ever done to seonghwa’s body.

“get over yourself. there’s nothing to fix. there’s nothing that _can_ be fixed in me. i need everyone else to fucking disappear to fix me.”

hongjoong’s fingers tremble around the cigarette. unmoving, seonghwa watches the trickles of smoke traveling up to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

that’s so _pathetic_ of him. so beyond, truly pathetic of seonghwa, to sit here, aching with the memory of hongjoong still in him, wanting to break down because what he said took a hammer to a pandora’s box seonghwa wasn’t willing to open yet. there’s guilt there, pouring in waves, because he wanted to, in the beginning.

but just in the beginning.

he’s so over this. _so_ over it. he’s had enough of trying, enough of pretending that if he’ll take it, if he’ll be hongjoong’s little toy, hongjoong will someday see that beyond fixing him, seonghwa found in him someone worth loving.

that it hasn’t been _like that_ for seonghwa for a long time.

“you’re such an idiot,” seonghwa breathes out, words buried in the tremble of his voice. “i don’t want to fix you.”

this much gets hongjoong’s eyes on him. seonghwa picks up his coat, his phone, the amalgam of things strewn around the little room. with its pink walls, pink ruined bedding, pink lamp. disgustingly sweet, hearts everywhere. seonghwa picks them up with trembling hands, the knot in his throat making its presence increasingly more known. one step forward, two steps back.

 _not in front of him. not in front of him,_ seonghwa tells himself. _anywhere but here._

when he’s at the door, the first one to leave this time, he chances a look back at hongjoong.

and wishes he hadn’t.

hongjoong’s eyes are big, wide. he’s staring at seonghwa like he’s a natural disaster, halfway between shock and imminent tragedy.

seonghwa seals the deal. “i love you.”

and closes the door behind him, unwilling to hear the answer.

seonghwa isn’t surprised by the fact that it’s raining. they seem fitting, the dreary grey clouds without the slightest hint of sunshine, the slow but steady beats of the raindrops on the top of his car.

it’s been raining since last night, and it hasn’t let up ever since.

despite that, the cemetery is as green as ever. the wet grass squeaks under his feet as seonghwa tries to find his way to the place he had only dared to go a couple of times before, in the night, when no one else was around.

he sees hongjoong before he can figure out if he’s in the right place. huddled into himself, water petering down on his oversized raincoat. he realizes it’s hongjoong by the hands around his knees tucked up into his chest.

by now, seonghwa thinks he could recognize those hands anywhere.

his eyes turn to the right, to the grave seonghwa is sitting in front of. they scan over the name, the date. it’s been three years today.

there’s no body under the ground, seonghwa knows. that’s how the choi family operates; leave no trace, leave no evidence.

how would he expect hongjoong to get closure? how could he ever get closure and love seonghwa when this part of his life still stands raw and incomplete? unsure?

his father always denied it was him who ordered it, even to him, even while seonghwa broke down in pained sobs on his knees in front of him, asking why. _why did he do it, why did he have to._ his father always looked heartbroken, pulled seonghwa to his feet, saying he _didn’t._ he would never do that to his own child.

but seonghwa has always known better. has known for a while everything that came out of his father’s mouth was a lie. _i’ll spend more time at home, i’ll take good care of you, i won’t see her again, i won’t hurt your mother anymore._

_it was a mistake._

hongjoong catches sight of him then.

like thunder, he gets up on his feet, pushing seonghwa with both of his hands on his chest. seonghwa lets himself be thrown away, stumbling one, two steps behind and standing upright.

_“how dare you?”_

seonghwa takes the slap of hongjoong’s words and bows his head.

“how _dare_ you come here?”

because he deserves them. seonghwa deserves the pain of hongjoong’s anger pointed into a little blade into his heart. the wound, despite how long it has been, still stands open and painful.

“i came here to give you this.”

and he hands him the files, taking in hongjoong’s taken aback expression. in neat little bullet points, a timeline of corruption, bribery, harrassment, abuse—seonghwa’s father, his closest aide, aided by the choi gang. everyone. hongjoong can put it together—seonghwa knows he can.

“his assistant helped me trace it. you need to keep her out of it, help her.”

hongjoong’s jaw drops. he swallows, hands trembling.

“are you… _what?”_ hongjoong looks up and at him, almost comical. “seonghwa, are you sure…?”

seonghwa smiles.

“you deserve it. i’m sorry it took me this long.”

and he glances at the grave, apologizing to yunho too. seonghwa never got the chance to get to know him, but by how fiercely hongjoong loves him…

he figures it’s all worth it, making everything right.

the halls of the mansion are quiet, painfully so. hongjoong can tell it is unnatural for this space; the park family was well-known for their parties, their constant entertaining, the extensive business deals going on behind the façade of loud music and freely flowing alcohol.

it almost looks haunted. hongjoong finds it hilarious to think about—the ghosts of the people whose deaths were in seonghwa’s family’s hands, coming back to get what’s theirs.

it takes him a good while to find seonghwa, laying in the chair of his father’s office, hongjoong presumes. he’s quiet, but he shifts slightly when hongjoong walks into the room, like a gravitational pull to hongjoong.

“i did it.”

“i know. thank you.” hongjoong smiles at him.

“so what now?” _for us,_ hongjoong reads in seonghwa’s voice.

“what now?” hongjoong ponders, laying on the side of the desk, taking a good look at seonghwa in the chair. “hmm.”

hongjoong can tell seonghwa loves him; as messed up as it might be, for whichever reasons he might, he does. he’s fiercely loyal, determined, caring, loving; seonghwa gave away his own life in the hope he could build one next to hongjoong.

but he is also a child. it’s plain to see—he is a spoiled child under a family that gave him too much and demanded too much of him all at once. and without learning the consequences of his actions, shielded from the real world, the first time he became the funnel to something so horrifying, he went crazy. took on the guilt of everything, and thought that he could fix it— he could fix hongjoong.

because seonghwa always gets what he wants; he does not understand how it is to not be the center of the world, for planets to not orbit around him. to not be the main character, the savior in every story—hongjoong thinks seonghwa still has to figure that out, and probably will the hard way.

which is sad, because in another world, seonghwa would have been an amazing leader, and an amazing partner too. a wonderful lead in hongjoong’s own story.

but in this world, hongjoong will never be able to look at him without seeing yunho.

“we’re done.”

seonghwa’s eyes grow wide as saucers when they turn to him. “what?”

“we’re done.”

“i…” seonghwa’s pretty, large eyes widen. “i _ruined_ him. for _you.”_

“i know,” hongjoong smiles, warm. his hand cups seonghwa’s cheek from above. he really does feel _bad_ for him—seonghwa, ultimately, was the sacrificial lamb: innocent, even if quietly underestimated in the sharks’ game. not guilty of anything but being born who he is.

however, we all bear the burdens of our parents.

“…but you need to leave. leave the country, live your life.” hongjoong pulls a business card from the desk, seonghwa’s father’s most probably, and scribbles down a number only one other person has known before. seonghwa refuses to pick it up from his hand; hongjoong drops it on the desk, facing him. “if you ever find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of, call that. i’ll find you.”

seonghwa doesn’t move. hongjoong can see it in his eyes, when he _really, truly_ gets it. that in the same way that hongjoong and yunho had (have) to suffer… so does he.

and yet, hongjoong imprints the image of seonghwa in his father’s chair, his struck expression, behind his eyelids. yunho would want him to never forget seonghwa as well.

“goodbye, seonghwa.”

he leaves. hongjoong leaves seonghwa in his father’s office chair, and doesn’t turn around.

the first domino was toppled; now their revenge can truly start.

in the dark cabin, hongjoong takes a moment to ponder the array of photos stuck to the wall with red thread and red thumbtacks, detective movie style. he’s proud of the arrangement; it took quite a while to do, and it summarizes the path forward fairly well. however twisted it might be.

he twirls the red marker between his fingers, staring at the photo of seonghwa with the big red dot in the corner; gone, but not dead. hongjoong will have to keep a close eye on him; half out of worry he’ll ruin the plan, and half because, well… despite everything, he’s gotten somehow attached to him. seonghwa has a good heart.

hmm. maybe one day. maybe one day hongjoong will find him, and try to make it up to him.

above seonghwa’s smaller photo, seonghwa’s father stares at him, dark and imposing. hongjoong has known no greater pleasure than lifting the marker and drawing a red X through his face. he presses the marker too hard in the corner; it bursts through the photo, leaving a mark on the cork board.

he drops his hand, and smiles.

two hands press themselves to his hips, large and insistent. rough, dry lips travel up his neck, a peek of tongue between them; hongjoong tilts his head sideways, to give them access to rise to his ear, pleasant tingles traveling straight down.

well, maybe _one_ greater pleasure.

“you didn’t wait for me,” yunho’s sleep-laden voice rumbles in hongjoong’s ear. it raises goosebumps on the arch of his neck; eager, hongjoong pushes back to feel the outline of yunho’s half-hard cock press against his lower back.

one smooth turn and yunho’s eyes are on his, low and lidded with desire.

“i’m sorry. couldn’t wait. i’ll let you do it next time, yeah?” hongjoong presses his lips against his, smiles as yunho’s tongue sneaks into his mouth, searching, burning against his.

yunho pulls away, resting his forehead on hongjoong’s, eyes closed. and he breathes in the silence.

hongjoong feels the rise and fall of his chest, the heartbeat under his palms. the reminder that yunho is here, alive and himself. he shakes the image of yunho’s grave out of his mind, and arches up to feel warm lips on his own again.

“done with him, baby?”

“done with him,” hongjoong whispers in return.

“good,” yunho smirks; hongjoong feels it on the corner of his mouth, drawing shivers up his spine.

he yelps when he’s suddenly picked up, large palms on the underside of his thighs hoisting him up to wrap his legs around yunho’s waist. yunho draws a giggle out of him, tickling his neck with his hair, kissing on the underside of his jaw as hongjoong’s arms tangle behind his neck.

hongjoong’s skin vibrates with his ensuing chuckle, and he bends his head down to kiss the smile on yunho’s mouth again. and again. and again.

for as long as he can, until his head is spinning with desire, back hitting the mattress—and he’s left breathless with love, power, the thrill running through his veins.

and most of all, with yunho. yunho rocking gently inside him, interlocked hands, laughs and eager moans in the same breath they share. hongjoong eagerly arching into him, shuddering under the crystal clear feelings in yunho’s big, beautiful eyes.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, scream at me on twt and curiouscat @bbysvts. hope you enjoyed it! <3


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